


carry me on and on

by carmiros



Series: we'll find out if love is the size of the oceans [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Self-Harm, anxiety warnings, small emetophobia mention, tHIS ISNT COMPLETELY SAD I PROMISE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:23:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmiros/pseuds/carmiros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack visits Bitty for the Fourth of July and learns a lot of things about his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	carry me on and on

**Author's Note:**

> obviously i don't love myself.
> 
> title is from "box around the sun" by misterwives

The first thing Jack notices is that Georgia is _hot_. The air is humid and sticky, the sun beating down onto the back of Jack's neck. 

He was not born for this. 

Jack is trying to remember whether or not he brought sunscreen when a familiar voice calls out, "Jack!" 

His head snaps up and he laughs when he sees Bitty sprinting across the airport, parting the crowd as if it were the sea. Jack laughs even harder when Bitty trips over his own two feet and almost face-plants. Instead, Bitty rams into an unsuspecting woman who yelps at the collision. Jack hears Bitty squeak, "Oh goodness, I am so _sorry_ , ma'am! Are you okay?" 

Once the woman assures that yes, she's fine, Bitty eagerly fast-walks towards Jack. He notices that Bitty has already gotten tanner and has more freckles.

Finally, Jack and Bitty collide. Bitty jumps up and Jack catches him, abandoning his bag in order to twirl Bitty around.

"Oh, god, I missed you-" Bitty peppers him with insistent kisses, smiling into Jack's skin. "It's been so  _long_ -" 

"It's only been three weeks," Jack reminds him. Bitty rolls his eyes and kisses him fully and Jack has really,  _really_ missed this.  _  
_

There are several people staring, even  _glaring,_ but in Jack's opinion, all that matters is that Bitty is here. Which reminds him, Jack really needs to put Bitty down. 

So he does, Bitty still looking at him with those eyes and that bright smile. Jack keeps a hand on Bitty's hip and starts to pick his bag back up, but Bitty stops him by putting a hand on Jack's chest. 

"Oh no, you don't, mister. I've got it." Bitty hauls the bag over his shoulder and it knocks against his knee. Jack still can't get over how adorably short Bitty is.

"C'mon, pretty boy, let's go." Bitty says with a grin and reaches down to take Jack's hand.

"Lead the way, handsome," Jack replies, watching Bitty's eyes go as wide as saucers.

"Don't  _say things like that,_ " He hisses and reaches out to smack Jack in the arm, but Jack steps out of the way, laughing.

"What, I can't tell you that you're beautiful?" Bitty's blush flares so Jack goes on. "And I can't tell you that you have the cutest accent ever, eh?"

"Bless your heart, Jack Zimmermann." Bitty mutters.

"My point exactly-- Oh."

The July heat hits Jack like a slap across the face, causing him to immediately begin to sweat. He wilts a little and Bitty smirks. "This is Georgia, dear. It's one hundred degrees _every day_."

Jack whines, "I don't think I like this."

Bitty throws his head back and lets out a cackle. As he hops into his truck (honestly, Jack isn't surprised in the choice of car) he chirps, "You're cute when you complain."

Jack follows suit, climbing into the car. "I want to go back to Canada."

 

* * *

 

The drive takes roughly an hour, but Jack and Bitty spend their time efficiently. Bitty has a Beyoncé album blaring from the speakers and he sings along. Loudly. Very, very loudly. But there's no where else Jack would rather be. 

Eventually houses begin to pass by until a town rolls into view.

"Home sweet home!" Bitty exclaims, looking around at the buildings.

Jack notices that a lot of the stores are ones that he's never even heard of, so he assumes that they're local. However, there are a lot of McDonald's and several big name gas stations. Jack counts three Starbucks on one street alone.

When they pass a school, Bitty points it out and says, "Aw, there's my old middle school!" 

Jack looks at it fondly, trying to imagine a younger Bitty having braces and an awkward, lanky phase. It makes him smile. 

"I bet you were the cutest kid there," Jack says quietly.

"Oh, probably not," Bitty says. "But thank you."

"I wish I could've seen you then."

"You probably will, since my mother will most definitely have the baby pictures out."

Jack blinks, then his stomach drops. "Oh. I'm going to meet your mother, aren't I?"

Bitty reaches out and takes Jack's hand. Jack looks up and sees Bitty's reassuring, gentle smile. He calms down slightly, the tension leaving his shoulders. 

"Jack, she already loves you." Bitty says softly, "Don't worry about it."

"But what about the rest of your family?" Jack asks, fiddling with his hands.

Bitty doesn't reply and Jack looks over, eyebrows knit. Bitty stares out at the road ahead and bites his lip. Jack squeezes his hand, silently asking,  _What's wrong?_

With a sigh, Bitty says, "It doesn't matter if you risk your life to save them, they won't like you. Or me, for that matter, because we're... Because we're..."

"Not straight?" Jack answers, lungs unable to function properly. Bitty nods but finally looks over, mustering a smile. 

"But it's only us and my mom, so it's okay. My dad is on a business trip and our extended family decided to go on an out-of-state trip; things could be worse. We'll be fine."

Jack notices that it sounds more like Bitty is reassuring himself. But before he can press on, Bitty lights up and announces, "We're here!" 

Jack turns his attention onto the house in front of them. It's one story, average sized and painted a deep blue. Little trinkets decorate the front yard and there are several flower bushes lining the front porch. A huge tree shadows over the driveway and soars above the house roof. There doesn't seem to be a backyard, just thick woods. It's simple. Jack likes it. 

"How do you say 'house' in French?" Bitty asks curiously. 

" _La maison,_ " Jack answers and sees Bitty smile. " _Nous allons chez Eric_." 

"I don't know what that means. I took Spanish, remember?"

"You never told me that,"

"Why do you think I chose Señor Bunny as a name?" Bitty says smartly and Jack leans over to swat at him, but he quickly turns the car off and jumps out, laughing when Jack glares.

"You can't catch me!" Bitty taunts gleefully.

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really, eh?"

Bitty recognizes the look and his face drops. "Don't you dare," he says sternly.

Jack takes off his seat-belt. Bitty takes a step back. Slowly, Jack opens the door and steps out, smirking at Bitty, who looks terrified.

"Jack, don't," he says.

But Jack lunges at Bitty, grabbing his wrist when he tries to run. They both tumble into the grass, Bitty shrieking as Jack lands on top of him. 

"I'm sorry, I said I'm sorry! Jack, oh my god, get _off_ , I'm gonna-"

"You're gonna what?" Jack asks, pining Bitty's hands over his head.

Bitty stares up at him breathlessly, eyes widening. "I'm gonna..." he trails off as Jack leans in.

But the door opens and Bitty's mother shouts, "Don't be gettin' grass stains on your clothes, boys! How old are y'all, six?" 

"Oh my god-" Jack and Bitty part instantly, rocketing to their feet and making sure to stand a wide distance apart. Jack brushes grass off his shirt, face warm.

Mrs. Bittle watches from the doorway, smirking. It's terrifying.

"Hi, mama," Bitty says sheepishly. 

"My apologies, Mrs. Bittle," Jack says. "I didn't mean to make such a ruckus."

Ruckus. Jack just said _ruckus_. But Ms. Bittle just smiles sweetly and replies, "It's no big deal, Jack! And, please, call me Anne."

"Thank you, er...Anne."

"Come on inside! I got lunch ready!" Bitty perks up and races inside as if he were a kid again. Jack watches him go, smiling fondly before grabbing his bag and following inside.

 

* * *

 

"Dicky, put your phone away when you're at the table."

Bitty flinches, phone flying out of his hand. Luckily Jack catches it, handing it back to him and saying, "Listen to your mother, eh, Dicky?"

Bitty's eyes narrow. "Oh, _don't_." 

Jack grins down at his plate, not complaining when Bitty kicks him underneath the table. 

"So boys," Mrs. Bittle-- _Anne_ \-- says, taking a sip of her sweet tea. "What were y'all plannin' to do today?"

Jack looks over at Bitty, expecting him to answer. Bitty stares back, just as clueless before turning to face his mother.

"I'm not sure. We didn't exactly, uhm, talk about it," he says, setting down his fork to wring his hands. "Maybe we could go downtown? There's a great bakery that has really good cookies...?"

Jack nods, relishing in the thought of eating junk food for once. His new coach had been shockingly strict about his diet and forced him to eat protein twenty four-seven. 

"What a great idea!" Anne replies. "Why don't y'all go on ahead? I'll clean up."

Jack feels something like guilt creeping up on him. "Are you sure?"

Anne nods. "Of course! It's no big deal, honey."

Jack almost flinches at the pet name, unfamiliar with such affection. Jack's mother hadn't called him anything like that since, well,  _forever._ But Jack manages an awkward smile, stammering, "T-Thank you, ma'am."

Bitty stands and leans over to hug his mother. "Thank you, mama."

"Oh, go on, boys," Anne says, shooing them away. "Go have fun."

"We will," Bitty reassures, grabbing Jack's hand and pulling him down the hall.

Jack lets out a pathetic squeak. "Your mom-"

"She already knows," Bitty replies nonchalantly. 

Jack doesn't relax just yet. "Is she-- you know-- okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't she be?" Bitty asks, frowning deeply. "If she wasn't, why did she let you stay with us?"

Jack stops. "Oh."

Bitty leans forward and gives him a quick peck on the lips. "Don't worry, Jack. It'll be fine. It _is_ fine." But for some odd reason, Jack can't shake the feeling that it won't be fine. He tries to get rid of the tension, rolling his shoulders as Bitty chatters on and on about this bakery they're going to.

" _So_ many people visit just to go there!" he exclaims when they stop at a red light. "And apparently it's been there _forever_. Can you believe that? When I moved here I thought it was new but the owner told me that it's been open since, like, 1955." 

Even when the light turns green and the car starts moving again, Bitty manages to gesture wildly. Jack wonders how they haven't crashed yet. 

"But, oh Jack, their chocolate croissants are to _die for_. When you bite into them it feels like you've gone to heaven." 

"They're really that good?" Jack asks hesitantly. 

Bitty glances at him as if to say _Excuse me?_   "If you're gonna be so pessimistic, _mister_ , then I'll make you try one." 

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really." Bitty nods in affirmation. "Now c'mon, we're here. I swear, this will change your _life_!"

The car parks and Jack climbs out, slouching when the thick heat clings onto him. "Did it get hotter?" 

Bitty shrugs, unaffected even though sweat runs down his brow. "Probably."

"How are you so used to this?"

"I am a Georgia boy, born and raised, thank you very much. I only saw snow twice before I moved up to Boston." 

"Don't rub it in, Dicky," Jack mutters and Bitty huffs, but he notices that Bitty doesn't take his hand like he usually does. It bugs him even as they both walk into the little bakery, the delicious smell of chocolate filling his nose.

"I'll order for you." Bitty says casually, keeping an odd distance. 

Jack nods, mechanically walking over to a table near the window. The bakery is small, made entirely of brick and lowly-lit. Souvenir shirts are hung up on one wall, along with pictures of famous customers that Jack doesn't recognize. There are only two tables, both set right next to the window and worryingly creaky. Over the counter there's a glass display filled with cupcakes, fudge, and other pastries. Jack's stomach growls at the sight of them. 

Jack's gaze trails across the room, settling on the other customers. They look around college-aged and are clumped together in a group, so Jack assumed that they all know each other.

And they're all staring at Jack.

Jack smiles awkwardly, shoulders tensing at the predatory stares. The group takes that as a signal and a brown-haired boy steps up. His gaze is heavy-lidded and his uncanny smile sets Jack's nerves on edge. 

The boy swaggers over, fingers looped in the pockets of his jeans. It's so stereotypical that Jack could puke at the sight. 

"Hey there, pal," The boy says in a deep country drawl. "You here with Eric?"

"...Eric Bittle?" Jack answers slowly. 

The boy's eyes light up. "Yeah! How do ya know him?"

"We, uh, go to school together. Up in Boston," Jack shakes his head. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

The boy attempts to look surprised, but fails. "Oh! I'm Troy. Troy Cooper. I went to school with good 'ole Eric."

"Jack?" Bitty asks suddenly, standing right behind Troy, who turns and grins like a crocodile.

"Hey, Eric! I was just talkin' to your friend here!" The word _friend_ is spit out venomously, as if to taunt Bitty.

Bitty's face pales. Jack sits up straighter, watching in concern. His leg begins to shake.

"H-Hi, Troy," Bitty says, voice surprisingly small. 

Troy doesn't even notice Bitty's discomfort. He wraps an arm around Bitty's shoulders and Jack sees the way Bitty's knuckles turn white as he clutches the pastries in his hands like a lifeline.

"Pardon me, how about you sit?" Troy encourages, practically shoving Bitty to sit down. Troy's hand curls around his shoulder like a vice. "Tell me, Eric, how exactly did you score a man like this? What'd ya have to do?"

Bitty juts his chin up and snaps, "None of your business,"

Jack's blood turns cold when Troy's eyes flash dangerously. Obviously they're now beyond the point of pleasantries. 

"Well, I guess we were right, weren't we? You are queer," he says. 

Jack tries to speak up, do _something_ , but his body won't move. He's forced to watch as Bitty looks down at his hands, biting his lip. Troy clearly notices and goes on.

"I'm no faggot but man, this guy is such a looker I might steal him from you!" The group from the other table hears and guffaws. Bitty shrinks down in his seat and Jack's chest aches.

Troy suddenly glances at his watch. "Well, damn! It's time for me to leave." He finally releases Bitty's shoulder and straightens up. Bitty lets out a small gasp and tilts forward as if he was about to faint. "It was great to see ya, Eric. We should do this again sometime." He nods at Jack before walking back to the other table where his friends are still laughing. 

Bitty sits there, terrifyingly small. He blinks hard, hands clenched into tight fists. 

"Bitty-" Jack manages to say but he gets cut off.

"Let's go."

Bitty stands up, eyes still trained on the ground. Jack tries to say something but he's at a loss. He has no choice but to obey, and stand up. He follows Bitty out, jaw clenching when a few people at the other table call out, " _Bye_ , Eric," and snicker when Bitty doesn't reply.

The walk to the car is deathly quiet, Jack staring at Bitty, who lets out the occasional sniffle. 

"Bitty," Jack starts again.

"No," he says tightly. 

Jack sits in the car, stuck watching as Bitty slams the door closed and shoves the keys into the ignition. When the radio begins to play, he punches the power button off. 

As they pull out and start down the street, Bitty begins to blink harder. His hands tighten on the wheel and Jack's heart breaks. The sniffles become more frequent until, suddenly, a sob breaks free from Bitty's lips in a shuddering gasp. Jack's throat seems to close up as Bitty freely cries, chest heaving. 

Jack tries to reach out and Bitty snaps, "Don't _touch_ me."

" _Eric,_ " Jack pleads, hating the way his voice trembles.

"I said _don't fucking touch me_! I'm not talking about it, okay?" Bitty lets out another sob. 

Jack rubs his neck out of pure habit, his whole body aching and he wants nothing more than to something besides be useless. But he's unable to as they finally pull into the driveway and Bitty curls in on himself, pressing his knees against his chest. 

Jack thinks, _He's never looked so small_ , and that hurts more than anything.

Bitty's whole frame begins to shake and his nails dig dangerously deep into his arms. Another heartbroken sob escapes out of him, louder than the last. 

"You need-" Jack begins, stopping when his gaze is met with ferocious, red-rimmed eyes.

Bitty shouts, " _Get out!_ "

Jack obeys, trembling as he gets out of the car. He doesn't realize that he's walking away until he feels soft fabric underneath his skin and he realizes that he's looking up at the ceiling of Bitty's room.

 

* * *

 

Later on, Jack finds himself wandering around the empty house. There's a note from Anne on the fridge, saying that she went to run a few errands. 

He looks at the pictures hanging up on the walls, showing Bitty through the years. Jack pays special attention to a school picture from the second grade, an especially-freckled Bitty grinning at the camera. His eyes are practically closed and he's missing two front teeth. It's a good picture.

Jack stares at it for God knows how long until he hears a nearby grandfather clock chime. How long had it been since Jack left the car? Judging by the way the lightning bugs are starting to come out, a while.

So Jack walks out the front door, searching. The truck is off and empty. The porch swing is, too.

"Bitty?" he calls out, circling around the house. The backyard only has a small patio and a bench that's cracked from the sun. Birds chirp from the nearby thicket of trees and the cicadas hum in harmony. A grasshopper crickets. 

The sound of running water suddenly breaks through and Jack follows the noise, stepping over fallen tree limbs and clusters of poison ivy, only focused on the flowing water. With each step Jack's anticipation builds. 

A creek enters his line of vision and on a rock by the edge sits Bitty. Jack lets out a quiet sigh of relief and walks over. Bitty doesn't even turn to look.

When he sits besides Bitty, Jack sees how puffy his eyes are. His face is stained from the tears and he looks tired.

"I'm sorry," Bitty says suddenly, voice unfamiliarly hollow. 

"For what?" Jack asks.

"I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. You didn't deserve that."

Jack turns to look at Bitty fully, completely. "You don't need to apologize."

Bitty lets out a shaky sigh. "I just-- I _hate_ this place," he says. "It's one big constant reminder of who I used to be and who I was stuck with. I hate it, I hate it _so much_."

Jack reaches out and gently runs his hand down Bitty's arm. It's riddled with red marks from where he dug his nails in and Bitty shivers at the touch.

"Who did you used to be?" Jack says quietly.

Bitty hesitates. "Here, you only have a few options. You're straight and everyone adores you. If you're not, you can play the part and get by just fine. Or you can pretend and no one believes you. Or you can come out and be at risk for-- you know."

"What'd you do?"

"I've always pretended. I was sort of in denial, I guess? But I knew that I wasn't...normal. People bullied me anyway, calling me queer and a faggot and telling me to go to Hell. Living in the South can do that," Bitty manages to laugh.

"At my old school," he goes on, "it was. God, it was awful. In seventh grade I got locked in a closet overnight. When my parents found out, they moved me here. I try to tell myself it was better, but it wasn't." Bitty takes a shaky breath and Jack almost stops him. 

"Anyway, everything was okay until junior year. I was going through some ridiculous phase where I wanted to be rebellious. So I was like 'fuck it,' and started seeing this guy from my math class. It was all very hush-hush.

"We went to homecoming together and some people walked in on us-- uh, you know. They didn't do anything next week. They, uh," 

Jack notices that Bitty's hands are shaking. "Eric-"

"I was cornered after school," Bitty forces himself to say, jaw set in determination. "And they-- they beat me up really badly. I was in the hospital. When people asked what happened they said that I'd-" Bitty shakes his head, smiling grimly. " _God_ , that I'd done it to _myself_."

Jack's sight starts to waver.

"So, you probably know what happened next. I was there for, I don't even know, two months? The doctors kept asking me why I'd want to hurt myself, all of that, but I didn't say anything." Bitty's eyes start to get glassy as he rambles on. "The other kids could tell I was, I dunno, vulnerable and said a lot of mean things. One day I kinda punched a kid and-- and--" 

At this point Bitty's eyes are so wide and disfocused that Jack forces him to stop, leaping forward to hug him. Bitty's fingers dig into Jack's shirt desperately, trying to muffle his own gasps. Jack buries his face into Bitty's hair, reaching up to comb his fingers through it. 

They stay there for awhile, Jack holding Bitty, who tries to regain his breathing. Jack shushes him quietly, pulse relaxing as the tension melts out of Bitty's body.

Bitty's voice breaks the silence. "I'm sorry," he croaks.

Jack wraps his arms tighter around him. "Shh, don't apologize. C'mon, up you go."

They stand together, Bitty's arms still laced around Jack's neck. Jack reaches under him and scoops Bitty up, hands settling underneath his thighs. Bitty lets out a content sigh, resting his head on Jack's shoulder and tucking his face into Jack's neck. Jack smiles at the gentle breaths ghosting across his skin.

Jack carries Bitty all the way back up to the house. He sees Anne's car parked in the driveway and prays that she doesn't ask where they've been. 

He hardly manages to open the door, creeping in quietly as Bitty's breathing slows. When Jack walks past the living room, Anne looks up from the TV. She opens her mouth to speak but as soon as she sees Jack holding Bitty her mouth shuts with an audible _click_. 

Jack musters up a thankful smile and makes his way to Bitty's room. He lays Bitty down gently, wincing as Bitty lets out a small groan. Jack grabs a blanket from the foot of the bed, covering him up. When he's sure that Bitty is asleep, Jack lays down next to him, carefully trying not to make the bed creak.

Kicking his shoes off the edge of the bed, Jack presses his feet against Bitty's shins, letting out a sigh. He didn't remember this bed being so comfortable.

Jack doesn't know how much time passes as he lays there, reaching out to trace the slope of Bitty's nose and the curve of his cheek. He waits for Bitty to wake up and remember the day's events, but Bitty sleeps soundly. So finally Jack's eyes begin to droop, and he allows himself to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Jack wakes up the next morning to lips pressing against his. His eyes automatically open to see Bitty watching him, smiling softly.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Bitty says before kissing him again.

"... _Quoi?_ " Jack manages, voice still scratchy. " _A quelle-heure?_ " 

"Speak English, you dork."

Jack blinks as Bitty climbs over him, clambering out of bed. Bitty stretches his arms over his head and Jack notices that he's barefoot.

Bitty looks over his shoulder and smirks. "What're ya lookin' at, eh?"

" _Ri_ \-- uh, nothing," Jack says. 

"Mmmmhmmm," Bitty replies, hands plopping down to his sides. "Do you want breakfast?"

"Yes, please,"

"Then get outta bed," Bitty teases and presses a chaste kiss to Jack's forehead before leaving.

Jack rolls onto his side, staring at the wall. Did Bitty not remember what happened the day before? Was he choosing not to talk about it? Either way, Jack was grateful.

He gets out of bed, rubbing his eyes and remembering that he forgot to take out his contacts.

" _Merde,_ " he mutters.

 

* * *

 

Jack wasn't very accustomed to American traditions but he knew that on the fourth of July you were supposed to cook out on the grill, set off fireworks, and be extremely patriotic. But all the Bittle family does is eat breakfast and watch TV. 

He still doesn't understand Americans.

Eventually Anne mentions a fireworks show and invites him and Bitty. "The whole town will be there," she adds, making Jack freeze.

"The whole town?" he says. 

Before he can go on, Bitty answers, "We'd love to go, mama." 

Jack looks at him with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

"We won't let some jerks ruin our holiday, now will we?" Bitty takes his hand and Jack finally relaxes. Anne doesn't ask. 

 

* * *

 

As soon as the car parks, all Jack can see is red, white, and blue. It's _everywhere_ , on the banners and clothing and it burns into Jack's retinas. Kids are running around the grass, carrying sparklers. People have set up picnics and sit together on blankets, chatting. Everyone seems to know each other, and that's slightly unnerving. 

"Is this American enough for you?" Bitty asks as he watches Jack stare in awe.

"Far too much," Jack replies, which makes Bitty laugh and circle around the car, wrapping his arms around Jack's waist.

"You are far too Canadian for your own good." 

Jack quirks an eyebrow. "I thought you liked that." 

"You bet your _ass_ I do," Bitty says and reaches up to kiss Jack. It's a simple, sweet gesture that sends tingles all the way down to Jack's toes. When they part, Jack notices that there are _several_ people staring. Their expressions are a mixture of shock and disgust, but Jack ignores it by kissing Bitty again. That'll show them.

"Oh, you two are just _darlin'_ ," Anne coos, hands resting over her heart. "I could just melt, oh goodness."

Jack feels his ears grow hot and he steps away to bury his face in his hands. Bitty cackles loudly.

"This is so embarrassing," Jack mutters. 

"Come on, babe, I thought you wanted to show me off," Bitty lowers Jack's hands away from his face, watching in amusement. "Let's scar these guys for _life_."

Jack grins. "You are downright evil, Eric Bittle." 

Bitty shrugs, taking his hand. "I try my best."

As they walk, Bitty swings their arms, giggling at nothing. But nothing beats when, as the sky burns a rainbow of color, Bitty cups Jack's face in his hands and leans over to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll give u a million dollars if you spotted the cute pet name. you know. /the one./


End file.
